


Smother Me, Smother Me

by Shinyredfinish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Coercion, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Faeformers AU, Human Cassette AU, Kidnapping, Mostly Tarn because I never get requests so I fill the self indulgent bs first, Multi, Other, Reader-Insert, Robot/Human Relationships, Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships, Xenophilia, Yandere, angel au, bad times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-05-18 03:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinyredfinish/pseuds/Shinyredfinish
Summary: This is just going to be series of works/drabbles featuring various Transformers characters. Requests are open and welcome!





	1. Tarn/Reader (Faeformers AU)

You were a singer. Only in private, though. Your audience would be none other than the birds, trees, and the open forest air.

 

For years you would sing in solitude. Nobody knew you did it, and the peaceful morning air in the forest, the dewdrops that gathered on the wild grass that glimmered in the light of dawn like stars, the way the light would bend as the sun rose and the way it broke over the horizon as the sun set quickly burned into your memory as you found a quiet place every morning or evening to sing your heart out to the silence.

 

It was summer when it began.

 

You were out in a spacious clearing, kneeling in the long grass as the dew-kissed blades tickled your bare feet. The soft, smooth lilt of your voice as you sang filled the air, and so wrapped up you were in your music you didn’t notice the shadows encroaching despite the warm morning sun.

 

The sun hung just over the trees. Sunrise was a little over an hour ago, and you were singing one last song before you’d stand up and head back home when you heard it. In the distance, another voice joined yours.  

 

You stopped singing almost immediately and listened, only to be greeted with resounding silence.

 

For the next minute nothing happened, and after the tense pause where you listened intently to no effect, you gathered yourself and quickly walked home. Perhaps it was paranoia, but the feeling of being watched followed you the entire way.

 

The weeks rolled by, and as you went to your clearing to sing sometimes you swore you heard the voice, but every time you stopped so did the sound. The feeling of eyes on you didn’t seem to go away, but the discomfort lessened as you rationalized that it was nothing more than anxiety. As the weather grew unkind with the cold and the trees lost their leaves, you began to leave the house for less time to sing.

 

Eventually the weather grew too cold for you to trek into the forest to your favorite spot, so you had to settle for singing in your kitchen as you cooked, or occasionally outside on the porch of your house if the weather was warm enough.

 

The voice you had heard accompanying you stopped with your visits to the clearing. You figured that perhaps there truly was someone singing with you, then. The idea brought a pang of embarrassment, but also a nagging curiosity. Who were they? You wondered if they ever saw you; if they were someone you knew, perhaps?

 

You had begun to forget about the voice when you heard a muffled, but haunting song coming from outside your window. It was late, and you had blearily woken up to the tune, walking to the window to investigate. Frost obscured your view of much of the window, but you still caught sight of a figure standing among the trees. They stood facing your window, head tipped up to peer at you and you swore you saw red, glowing eyes staring at you from the shadow of their figure.

 

The song itself would have been nearly soothing if it weren’t for the fact that they were standing outside your house staring at you through the window. It was that realization that quickly cleared the fog of sleep from your mind and sent your heart hammering against your ribs.

 

You quickly turned from the window, grabbed the bat you kept beside your bed for such occasions (you had lovingly named it the “Get The Fuck Off My Property” stick), went downstairs, slipped on a coat and some slippers, then stepped outside armed with your bat ready to bust some kneecaps.

 

When you made your way to the spot they were standing at earlier, you realized they were no longer there. The singing hadn’t stopped, though it had definitely moved and you heard it clearly coming from somewhere deeper into the woods. Thankfully, you weren’t the poor idiot in every horror movie that died in the beginning trying to play hero, so you took the opportunity to rush back inside. There was no way you were going to play hide and seek with a prospective murderer at one in the morning.

 

Besides, you didn’t exactly think singing in the woods in a mostly open area(as the houses here were few and far between—your nearest neighbor was a little over a mile away) warranted broken kneecaps, so you were glad they had left because you didn’t know how you’d explain yourself to the police.

 

The problem was that the stranger didn’t stop the late night acapella sessions.

 

It was starting to get annoying, really. They’d show up at one A.M. on the dot and begin belting out some song in a language you didn’t recognize, you’d grab your protection bat and storm outside fully expecting to beat the shit out of them, but they would always have retreated into the forest by then. Rinse, wash, and repeat until you finally began to ignore their presence (and the local police were of no help—this was giving you serious slasher movie vibes and you had a sinking feeling you’d be found as a bloody paste in your tub one of these days), opting to wear earplugs to bed instead.

 

Turns out the stranger didn’t appreciate you giving them the cold shoulder, and you were woken up by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass, the sound muffled considerably by the earplugs.

 

Your eyes snapped open to meet glowing crimson ones. Eyes that were staring down at you as a bitter chill swept through the room from the window they had undoubtedly smashed to get in here.

 

You barely registered what you were seeing—the masked, dark figure that loomed over you like death itself—before promptly scrambling out of the bed and out of the room. They—he—called after you; called you by name and the idea that this psycho knew your name pushed you to run faster, tearing open the front door as you bounded out into the snow.

 

It burned your feet, the cold burned and it hurt nearly enough to get you to stop but the demon that was chasing you was encouragement enough to continue.

 

You ran in the general direction of your neighbor’s house, breaking the line of trees into the forest and leaping over roots and underbrush as you went. Minutes passed and your lungs burned. Blackness encroached on the corners of your vision, threatening unconsciousness and vaguely you realized you couldn’t feel your feet anymore.

 

When you dared a glance back and saw nothing, you allowed yourself to stop, collapsing against a tree to catch your breath.

 

The forest behind you was still and quiet; there were no signs of anyone following you. Not even footprints. You must have lost them… it. Whatever it was.

 

Once you caught your breath you took the time to assess your feet, wincing at the pallor your feet had taken on, spotting the beginnings of purple-blue hues appearing like ugly bruises. It didn’t hurt, thankfully, but the numbness also indicated the beginnings of frostbite and the prospect of losing your feet to gangrene.

 

You waited for what you hoped was another minute(but knew it wasn’t, as you couldn’t afford to wait in the cold forever for a sign of your pursuer) before hastily jogging back home to treat yourself for frostbite and possibly hypothermia.

 

You made it about fifteen feet before you were suddenly sprawled on the ground, pinned underneath an unrelenting weight. Hands clutched at you from behind, the tips of what felt like _very sharp_ claws grazed your skin and you went stock still.

 

“Finally,” Came the relieved voice of the demon from before, “Finally, I’ve caught you! You can’t run from me anymore, little songbird.”

 

Cold air fanned the back of your neck and you felt him press against you, the cold edges of his mask digging against your skin.

 

You began to thrash underneath him as you shouted whatever you hoped would get him to leave. Most of it was biblical stuff that you heard repeatedly in exorcism movies, hoping that for once Hollywood wouldn’t fail you and the verses would work here.

 

The demon sitting comfortably on your back was unfazed, keeping your arms pinned beneath his knees as he shuffled around with something before you were flipped over suddenly onto your back. Your panicked eyes met his, and he looked pleased and rather undisturbed by what he was doing as a clawed hand tipped up his mask enough to reveal his mouth.

 

The other hand, which now held a vial you realized, brought the container filled with liquid to his lips as he downed it. The glass container was tossed and it shattered in the distance. With his now free hands, the monster gripped your jaw tightly, cutting you off in the middle of your fifteenth “The power of Christ compels you,” before cold lips met your own and the liquid was pushed into your mouth.

 

You swallowed most of it out of surprise, but still you managed to spit what remained back in his face and bare your teeth.

 

The shadowy figure merely tutted, trailing featherlight touches along your throat before stopping to rest one clawed finger over your trachea and applying enough pressure to begin restricting airflow. You ceased your struggles at the threat, but it still didn’t stop you from crying and pleading for your life.

 

“Please don’t hurt me, I don’t even know you! Let me go! Just let me go, please pleasepleasepleaseno-“ You begged, turning away from his perfervid gaze.  

 

“Now, beloved, don’t act this way,” He crooned, trailing the claws of his other hand along the side of your face once you stilled, “I know it’s scary, but this is for your own good. Think of how happy you’ll be once I take you home!”

 

You had no idea what he was talking about, and the growing panic didn’t disappear as you realized your surroundings were beginning to spin, the demon sitting on your chest restraining you was becoming fuzzier by the second until he was an obscure figure looming over you. Cold lips pressed to yours once more as he hummed your name like a song, and you were dragged into unconsciousness.


	2. Tarn/Reader (Faeformers AU) 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself trapped in a labyrinthine of a house, with endless hallways that all lead you back to your prison. The demon that captured you, who goes by the name of "Tarn", makes it clear he has no intentions of allowing for your escape.

You woke up to the sound of music softly playing, recognizing the soft chimes of a music box but you couldn’t quite place the song.

 

Your bed was warm, and you blearily turned over to look at your clock. Your nightstand wasn’t there beside your bed. In fact, this wasn’t your bed at all. Immediately you noticed that you didn’t recognize anything about the room you were in. The bed was far too large to be your own, covered in lavish fabrics.

 

Images of that haunting mask flashed across your memories and your heart sunk.

 

Where were you? Was he planning on killing you? What happened after you passed out? Your thoughts raced as you came up with possible answers, though none of them were comforting. Unhelpfully, your mind flashed to _The Silence of the Lambs_ and you shuddered.

 

Sitting around here and dreading whatever fate awaited you wasn’t going to help, you decided.

 

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, surveying the dimly lit space you were in. The lighting reminded you of just before the sun rose at dawn, and you wondered if that was a testament to what time it was or perhaps just poor lighting.

 

After a quick scan of the room, you noted that it was spacious, though lightly furnished. A few bookcases sat against the wall and there were various chairs scattered about the room. No sign of the music box that was playing the music, but you weren’t concerned about it. There was what you hoped to be a window on the far end of the room, hidden behind a large, dark slate-blue curtain. On the wall adjacent was the only door in the room.

 

Sitting up, you eased off the bed quietly, eyeing the door as your feet met the plush white rug. You realized you were still thankfully dressed in your pajamas from earlier, though they were dirty and slightly torn from your sprint through the woods.

 

You glanced at your feet and were relieved to see that they looked fine. In fact, you didn’t feel the slightest bit sore, as you had expected from being kidnapped by a terrifying demon.  

 

Padding over to the curtains, you pulled them back to see… nothing.

 

There was a window there, but it didn’t show anything beyond this room. You could tell it wasn’t frosted glass, either, as the wall encasing it on the other side was visible. There was just… nothing, in every direction. The light emanated from everywhere beyond the window endlessly, it seemed.

 

Cold dread began to creep down your spine as you stared ahead into the vast expanse, and you stepped away from the window. Letting the curtain drop to conceal the image once more.

 

Your turned instead to the door, trying it and finding it was unlocked. You poked your head out into the hallway and peered down it to see that the hall was large and nearly barren, like the room, with a few tables holding flower vases pressed against one of the walls every 30 feet or so. The hallway stretched on in either direction for quite some distance, until you could scarcely make out the end of it.

 

A few doors decorated the halls, but from even here you could see that they were blatantly boarded up, likely to discourage you from even trying them.

 

Taking your chances, you stepped into the hall and headed left. It seemed to be the shortest walk to the end of the hall, so you figured it wouldn’t hurt to try that way first. The music that was playing earlier faded the further you got from the room.

 

The hallway, you noted, was much brighter than the room. In fact, it almost hurt your eyes with how bright it was, and you didn’t notice any light fixtures or windows anywhere. Everything about this place was disconcerting. Once again, you wondered where you were.

 

You reached the end of the hall after a long and anxious walk, the only sounds were of your bare feet hitting the hardwood. Trying to walk more quietly didn’t help; the sound didn’t silence and your nerves were getting the better of you.

 

The hall branched off into two more hallways, though the one to your right was a considerably shorter walk and you couldn’t quite see the end of the hall to your left. You went right.

 

This went on for half an hour, with you making turns seemingly at random. It was beginning to annoy you more than anything else. Was this place a labyrinth? Another thirty minutes passed before you began to grow suspicious of your surroundings. The halls looked entirely the same! Had you gone in a circle?

 

After pausing in your exploration to think for a moment, you decided that no, no you hadn’t. You had made sure, in fact, to not make the same turn twice in a row, no matter how long the hall on the opposite turn had seemed to stretch forward.

 

You doubled back to the only doorway in the hall that wasn’t boarded up, peering inside. Sure enough, it was identical to the room you woke up in. The music started up as soon as you stuck your head in. That was why you didn’t hear the song when you were apparently passing the same room all this time.

 

Against your better judgement, you entered the room again to search for an alternative exit. There had to be one! A loose floorboard, maybe a hatch hidden under the rug, or a false wall panel. You began scouring the room, even turning to the bookcases and tearing all the books off the shelves in the small hope that one of them was a secret bookcase passage like in the movies.

 

There was nothing you could see, so you instead pushed the bookcases to inspect the wall behind them. In doing so, however, you knocked over one of them.

 

It slammed against the ground with a resounding boom, causing you to flinch so hard it hurt.

 

Your ears actually rung somewhat from the intensity of the noise, and you decided against moving the other bookcase in lieu of it crushing you should it fall over as well.

 

“Oh dear, what a mess.” A voice hummed from the doorway.

 

Your gaze snapped to the source, blood freezing at the sight of the demon from the night before. In the dim lighting you could see him clearly, though it also helped that this time you weren’t desperately running away from him. You took the time to quietly scan his figure, though it was mostly a hopeful search for some crippling weakness that you could use to your advantage.

 

He stood there contentedly, all imposing and black feathers. He was leaning in the open doorway and the harsh lighting of the hallway seemed to be swallowed by the suffocating darkness of his figure. It almost looked like he was the reaper, if not for the bone white owl mask, with his shadowy cloak of feathers. You caught sight of his clawed fingers in the light now, glinting dangerously in the light.

 

Maybe fighting him hand-to-hand wasn’t such a good idea, but you didn’t see other choices, really. Plus, you took karate for a few years when you were in third grade. That had to account for something… right? Worst case scenario, you can throat punch him and run.

 

“Fuck you,” You blurted out suddenly, clenching your fists until your nails bit into your palm.

 

“You wound me, darling,” The monster teased, placing a hand over his heart to feign hurt.

 

“Yeah well you can eat my _entire_ ass,” You spat, because you have no self-preservation.

 

“Is that an invitation?”

 

He purred, making his way over to you despite your rapid backpedaling. It didn’t take long before you tripped over a stray book that you’d thrown earlier and stumbled into the wall. He quickly took advantage, caging you against the wall with one arm and quickly wrapping the other around the small of your back to support you.

 

You cringed at the awkward position and his obvious disregard for boundaries, but the position you were in didn’t allow you much room for movement. If you moved to straighten you’d end up headbutting his chest.

 

“No. NO. Try again. Take ten steps back.” You pushed firmly against his shoulders. He didn’t budge, but appeared visibly put out at your denial.

 

“Darling—”

 

You cut him off by bringing a hand up to his mask and shoving his head back hard. In response, he pulled back slightly allowing you to wriggle away from him. It was only a brief reprieve, though, as he gripped your forearm tightly and pulled you back to him.

 

“ _Stop_ ,” He pressed his mask to your cheek, “Stop. Resisting me.”

 

You hesitated, and he took it as encouragement to continue.

 

Sweeping you up into his arms, your captor carried you back to the bed and you renewed your struggles. He hummed soothingly, petting your hair as he threw you into the pillows and luxury sheets before climbing to sit on top of you like in the forest.

 

This time, however, instead of sedating you like last time, he settles himself to rest his head over your chest. He listens to your frantic heartbeat and begins to speak.

 

“You may call me Tarn,” He tells in a low murmur, as if this were a completely normal occurrence.

 

“If you’re going to murder me I don’t think you need to give me your name,” You deadpan, biting back a hiss as he tightens his grip on you before relaxing.

 

“I’m not—” Tarn exhales through his teeth, and you don’t miss the dangerous glint in his eyes, “I’m not going to hurt you, (Name).”

 

You decide against quipping back with “Horton hears a bitch ass liar,” seeing as he already proved to be dangerous and potentially unstable. He _did_ break into your house for shunning him, chase you through the woods in the middle of the night, then drug you and drag you off to who-knows-where for reasons you could only assume included your bloody murder.

 

“Then why am I here?”

 

He perked up visibly, turning to peer up at you with pleased red eyes.

 

“Why, my little songbird, you’re here for your protection,” He paused, and frowned at the blank look you gave him, “Your little run through the forest gave you hypothermia. I brought you home and nursed you back to health.”

 

“Wha—you—“ You stammered. _This fuckin’ guy._ “ _You’re_ the reason I was out there in the first place! You broke into my house!”

 

Tarn grasped your face between his hands, humming.

 

“Only to see you, dear.” He crooned, reaching a clawed hand up to stroke your cheek before combing his fingers through your hair.

 

You jerked your head away, gritting your teeth, “Yeah, well thanks for the help but I need to get back home now.”

 

“You _are_ home,” Tarn tells you exasperatedly, “Though I’m still working on fixing up the other rooms for you, it’s functional enough.”

 

“That’s… nice and all, but I meant I need to get back to _my_ home. Without you,” You tack on.

 

He was undeterred, pressing closer to you and humming dismissively.

 

“Anything you require from your house can be brought here. Do you not like your room?”

 

You shook your head, hoping that maybe if you didn’t like the room he’d at the very least leave in search of something to amend that. You could buy yourself time to search for an exit. Hell, the window was sounding like your best option for escape, despite the unsettling nothingness beyond the glass.

 

“Oh, dear,” Tarn appeared crestfallen, “I suppose you could stay in my room, then.”

 

“No. I suppose I should go home, actually.” You quipped.

 

“Why? _Why_ are you fighting this so much?” He asked, tone honeyed and deceivingly pleasant, “Just love me. Love me and anything you want will be yours. I’ve wanted this for so long…”

 

Tarn didn’t seem content to let you protest further, shifting his mask to the side to press a kiss to your lips. He ignored you even when you thrashed and bit him, even seeming to take pleasure from it. He was smothering you with his presence and you felt panic well in your chest when he didn’t relent, continuing to hold you down even as he moved to press gentle kisses to your neck.

 

You let him do it after he grazed sharp teeth against your pulse in a clear threat, before he returned his attention to softly biting the junction of your neck. You just had to wait and bide your time, you realized, until an opportunity to escape arose.

 

The demon on top of you was holding you to him with such ardent possessiveness, though, and part of you wondered if that chance would ever come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this is not the greatest, but once again it was getting pretty lengthy and I figured I should just quickly revise and post it before I lost inspiration for this.
> 
> I do have a request to fill after this, so that's likely going to be my next update. In the meantime, feel free to drop a review. Feedback is very much appreciated! 
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my Tumblr at "hyperionova" but don't expect frequent posts. Requests can be made both in the comments here or on my tumblr, I don't really mind either.


	3. Soundwave/Reader (Human Cassette AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a particularly nasty argument with a loved one ending with her storming off into the night, you find yourself desperately searching the countryside for any sign of her. She had never returned from her walk to "clear her head" and that was weeks ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by a friend of mine. This is going to be multiple parts, as it was requested to be lengthy. I’m going to initially have two parts to this(maybe three if I’m inspired) but if anyone wishes to see if continued then continue I shall. 
> 
> Prompt: “TFP Soundwave/Reader cassette AU, but with the classic horror movie trope where reader goes on a search for a loved one and gets nabbed? Bonus points for angst”  
> The loved one is left mostly unspecified, so it can be a mother/sister/friend/otherwise. Whoever you want it to be. I’m not good at writing angst though so this was my best attempt ahah.

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I believe you,” She said, shoulders sinking, “And I wish I could forgive you.”

 

“Please don’t do this.”

 

Glassy eyes watched you from across the room. Her hand didn’t leave the doorknob. She sighed and turned her head away from you. _She can’t bear to look at you_. Something unpleasant and heavy settled in your gut at the realization.

 

The door latch clicked as she swung the door open, back turned to you.

 

She didn’t look back as she left. Didn’t say goodbye. You supposed you deserved it.

 

When she was gone you simply stayed to stare at the door expectantly, like you assumed she would return. She didn’t. She disappeared into the night and wasn’t heard from for weeks. Search teams were sent out to look for her, only to come up empty handed.

 

Emptiness ate away at you and with every day that passed with no sign of her you could only think of how badly you fucked up.

 

It was as though the universe was playing some cruel joke; having some morbid laugh at your expense. You deserve this. It was your fault.

 

Another week rolled by with no further news. You were the last person to speak to her, though the last person to see her mentioned she was heading out to the countryside. The search teams spent most of their efforts there, scouring the tall grass and questioning the few houses out there. A family farm, a recluse, and a quaint family of three who enjoyed the quiet. All of them claimed to know nothing.

 

When the search teams stopped looking, you began packing, preparing to go search for her. It took two days, mostly because you couldn’t work up the nerve. You wrote a letter explaining where you went in case you went missing searching for her. Somehow the idea of your body being found in a ditch somewhere didn’t bother you as much as the idea of it being hers. You deserved this. She didn’t. You repeated those words to yourself like a mantra as you left in search of her.

 

You searched the tall grass of the country for her. All day you searched, and when the sun sank below the horizon you pulled out a flashlight to continue your search. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, _nothing_.

 

There was nothing out here but the grass and open space for miles and it made you want to scream. She wasn’t here; not among the rolling hills or the brush. Nothing but open space and a few houses whose occupants watched your search curiously from the windows.

 

After two days of searching, you came across something of interest. At first you were genuinely scared it was a hallucination; your mind twisting the image into your eyes to ease the ceaseless regret that gripped your chest.

 

Stumbling closer, you reached out to touch it. The soft fabric met your fingers and you knew it was real. A jacket. Her jacket. She was here; somewhere. Hopefully nearby.

 

It was night when you found it, the sun having just set and you were considering collapsing from exhaustion when you’d found it. The sweeping beam of your flashlight catching the red sleeve poking from a matted cluster of tall grass.

 

You pulled the jacket from the tangle of wild grass and weeds. It was dirty and torn. Clutching it to your chest, you headed in the direction you’d found it, hoping you were going the right way.

 

You were. You only walked for a few more minutes after that before your light caught a trail of red. It painted the tops of the long grass and winked in the light. You knew it was blood when you saw it, and it was still wet. It must be fresh, then.

 

Dread began to leaden your limbs but you pushed forwards anyway. If it was hers… if it was _her blood_ …

 

Your pace quickened until you came to a ravine. You blinked. A ravine? Something wasn’t right. This shouldn’t be here.

 

Something blue glowed at the bottom of the ravine. It looked like some sort of luminescent rock.

 

You began to make your way around the deep gash in the earth, looking for some way down. She might be down there. You had to look.

 

Sure enough, you found a way down. There was a small ledge in the rock you could make your way down on, as it steadily sloped down into the chasm. You resolved that you would jump if it came to it, and cross your fingers in the hope that the landing wouldn’t injure you too badly.

 

You shimmied across the ledge, occasionally coming to an end where you had to stop and scan for another ledge. There always was one, thankfully, and you soon found yourself close enough to the bottom to jump the rest of the way. You could worry about the way back up later.

 

It was a ten-foot drop, just enough to jar you from the impact but not quite enough to injure you unless you landed wrong. You jumped to the ground and landed in an unsteady crouch. As you expected, your joints complained from the fall but you weren’t injured.

 

Pausing to sweep the flashlight’s beam across your surroundings, you caught sight of what looked like a cave entrance. The entrance was unnaturally smooth and looked like it was dug out; maybe this was a mining operation? You wondered why the entrance had to be so massive. It seemed unnecessary.

 

The blue glowing rocks seemed much smaller from the top, and now that you were down here in the bottom of the ravine you realized that they were much larger than you, though the smallest juts in the clusters were roughly the size of you.

 

 When you stepped nearer to one of the rocks, you felt an odd buzzing in your bones and the hairs on your neck and arms would stand on end. It reminded you of standing next to something that had gathered a lot of static charge. You decided against touching it.

 

You noticed there was a trail of blood down here as well, leading into the cave entrance. Apprehension gripped you as you stared into the darkness leading further into the cave, but you couldn’t stop now. You’d come this far.

 

Walking into the cave, you followed the blood as it lead further in. The blue rocks jutting from the cave walls became more and more abundant, lighting the rocky underpass enough where you didn’t need your flashlight. You turned it off to save battery, but kept it close in case you needed it.

 

The tunnel opened up into a large cavern, spotted with numerous clusters of that luminescent rock. It would almost be beautiful if it weren’t for the fact you’d followed a trail of blood here.

 

Stepping into the cavern, you paused to look around when you heard something solid slam into the ground behind you. The force of it shook the floor beneath you.

 

You spun around, eyes landing on something sleek and dark. The color of it seemed to be a dark blue or purple, but it was such a deep color that it looked nearly black in the soft light of the glowing rocks. It was metal, you realized, and it filled your vision. It looked like a leg.

 

Craning your head up to peer up at whatever was before you, you took in what you quickly realized looked like a giant robot. Its head was tilted to peer down at you, some sort of black reflective mask obscuring its face—or maybe that was its face—and it was blocking your escape.

 

Your senses returned to you the instant it began to lean down as if to take a closer look at you, and you spun on your heel and ran further into the cavern.

 

It didn’t give chase. You didn’t hear its footsteps thundering after you, but that didn’t stop you from continuing further into the cave system to put as much distance as possible between you and it.

 

It wasn’t long before you reached a dead end. The tunnel stopped abruptly before you, with no alternative routes to go but back.

 

The tunnel offered multiple places to hide, however, so you figured you’d take your chances and you squeezed between a small fissure in the rock that was _just_ big enough to fit you. Not long after you’d settled into your hiding spot, the sound of metal feet hitting stone filled the tunnel you were in. That robot-thing must have known there was a dead end here and had waited for you to corner yourself.

 

Sure enough, that same dark metal leg filled your vision again as the metal giant stopped in front of your hiding spot. Your heart stuttered in your chest when it kneeled down enough so its black visor of a face was staring directly at you from your apparently shit hiding spot.

 

“Hi,” You wheezed lamely. You sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be your final words. You had always expected to go out saying something badass. Or witty.

 

It tilted its head at your greeting before reaching forward with a large metal servo and tearing easily at the rock around you. Pressing yourself against the rock did nothing to deter it as it opened the fissure wide enough to pull you out.

 

Cold digits wrapped around you and you let out ragged gasp, thrashing around to get the looming giant to drop you. In response the grip on you tightened painfully, squeezing the air from your lungs until you stilled once more. It straightened, lifting you with it until you were face to face.

 

After a long, tense silence, something detached from its chest. You realized it was a smaller, vaguely bird-like robot. It looked more like a drone than anything else, and you hadn’t even noticed it there on the metal giant’s chest.

 

The drone landed on the arm of the giant holding you, chirping in your ear in response to your obvious distress.

 

Images flashed across the black visor before you suddenly, and you were horrified to see that they were images of you, from the moment you entered the countryside in search of your loved one. All multiple angles of you, most seemed to be from high up though a few images were obscured by grass.

 

The images disappeared, and replaced by them was a clear question mark displayed on its visor. You stared blankly at the screen, confused. What was it asking?

 

After a minute of you staring you realized what it wanted.

 

“What was I looking for…?” You venture tentatively, recoiling as much from the visor as possible.

 

It nodded.

 

“Oh, um… I was looking for someone. Am. I am looking for someone. They’re hurt.” You tell it, seeing as it was watching _you_ this whole time, maybe it was watching _her_ as well.

 

There was no response. It just continued to stare at you. You took that as a sign to continue. Maybe it needed you to elaborate.

 

“She was wearing this jacket,” You offer, shifting your arm as much as you could in its tight grip to show off the jacket, “I, um, was following a trail of blood here.”

 

It turned its head away from you suddenly, but you caught glimpses of her across its visor for a split moment before the images disappeared. It was… deleting files? It saw her? Why was it doing that?

 

“What are you doing?” No response.

 

“Where is she?” You try again. No response.

 

Panic began to grow in your chest. Metal digits moved to pet your head and you stiffened in apprehension and discomfort.

 

“…Um, I’d like to be put down now,” _That_ got a response, albeit not a very good one.

 

The metal giant turned towards you, flashing a bold “DENIED” at you with its visor. You pushed at the unyielding servo that held you in its grip with growing dread. You’d have to try a different approach.

 

“What’s your name?” You asked it. The being tilted its head curiously at you before words flashed across its visor once more.

 

“Designation: Soundwave.”

 

“Ok, Soundwave,” You began, steeling yourself, “I really should get going now, so could you please put me down?”

 

“DENIED.”

 

“…Why not?” You dared to ask. Soundwave stopped responding, choosing to instead stare you down in silence.

 

Its behavior was unnerving, and the alarm bells screaming in your head told you that it was probably going to kill you.

 

“If you’re concerned that by letting me go I’m going to rat on you or something, I assure you, I will not,” You began slowly, trying to push as much sincerity into your voice as possible, “I-it’s not like anyone would believe me anyway. You can let me go.”

 

Its visor moved closer to your face and you cringed back as much as you could in its hold. Soundwave didn’t stop until the cool surface of the black mask was pressed against your face. It took you a moment to realize that it was nuzzling you. Did it…? Did Soundwave see you as a _pet_?

 

That would explain its reluctance to release you, and its disregard for your comfort as it carressed you.

 

The drone chirped in your ear again and you jolted, whimpering in fear.

 

There was a pressure at the back of your neck and you whined, struggling to lean away from it. Soundwave didn’t relent its grip on you, and continued to nuzzle you. There was an electrical hum behind you before pain suddenly bloomed from the base of your neck. White filled your vision from the intensity of it before you found yourself slipping quickly into unconsciousness.

 

The black visor stared at you as you went.


	4. Tarn/Reader (Faeformers AU) 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this a few days ago but didn't get around to posting it here because I wanted to revise it before uploading it... though, this isn't /actually/ revised. My definition of revision is just reading through it and laughing at my own terrible jokes so uh
> 
> This is the most I've written of all the fae tarn thorst I've written thus far and I realize I'm rushing the story but uhhh? 
> 
> Anyway please feel free to leave the review because I live for attention y'all so lay it on me. Even if it's just roasting me in the comments I'll take it haha

“Sing for me.”

 

“No.” Was your clipped reply as you opted to stubbornly shun the bird demon vying for your attention.

 

He made a disgruntled noise in response, pushing his full weight against you until you couldn’t remain upright supporting him. Tarn then promptly sprawled to lay on top of you, choosing to ignore the pointed jab of your knee as you tried to push him away.

 

“Don’t be difficult,” Tarn chided, stretching comfortably on top of you much like a cat.

 

You counted to ten silently in your head as you bit back a sharp response. He had been tolerating your quips up until this point, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that his patience was wearing thin. Pissing him off was probably not the best idea; as you were constantly reminded whenever he gently stroked those sharp claws against your cheek.

 

“Why won’t you sing for me, darling? Don’t you love me? Tell me you love me.”

 

You turned to stare at the ceiling instead, setting your face into a blank mask.

 

Tarn sighed, but made no move to get off you.

 

He didn’t understand. He was prepared to give you anything you wanted—besides escape, of course—and you still resisted him.

 

Looking down at you now, Tarn felt his heart sing. Despite your continued resistance, seeing you here, under him, made everything worth it. You would learn to love him. You would. You didn’t have a choice.

 

Just imagining you telling him those words made him purr contentedly, pulling you against him. Your protests were muffled as he pressed you to his chest. After pushing at his shoulders for a few more moments, you gave up and let him smother you instead. Maybe, you figured, maybe he’d kill you like this. It _was_ a way out of your situation, after all.

 

Tarn clung to you for what felt like an eternity before he suddenly paused, as if listening for something. You dared a glance up at him, and just as suddenly he let go of you, laying you back against the bed and heading for the door.

 

“I’ll be just a minute,” He cooed affectionately before leaving.

 

You stared after him, puzzled, but made no move to get up until you heard his footsteps down the hall fade. That was odd. More so than his usual actions, even.

 

Well, now was as good a chance as any to look for escape again. Especially since Tarn hadn’t left your side since he caught you tearing up the room… which seemed like an eternity ago.

 

Time was hard to keep track of in this prison; if you asked Tarn how much time had passed he would respond with something vague like “too little,” or he would smile sweetly at you and ignore the question. His responses were similar for any other questions you asked regarding the world outside this room.

 

Sitting up, you walked to the door and shut it, blocking out the harsh light from the hallway. The hidden music box sprang to life and you hardly gave it a thought; likely it was something Tarn had implemented in this nightmare place to calm you. “Music to soothe the savage beast” and all that.

 

You went to one of the chairs in the room and propped it against the door for whatever small hinderance it might afford should your captor return. The bookcase might have worked better, but you didn’t trust yourself to move it all the way to block the doorway, and in the time it took to move it Tarn might return.

 

Really, you knew blocking the door wouldn’t do anything to stop him. The act was more out of defiance, than anything. To indirectly spit in Tarn’s face.

 

Once you’d propped the chair to barricade the door, you headed back to the window and pushed the curtain aside. Sure enough, there was still endless light beyond the glass. You traced your fingers along the window until you found the lip and pulled.

 

It was unlocked.

 

Apparently, Tarn didn’t think you’d actually make any attempt to leave through the window. It slid open easily, and you stuck your head out to peer down. You think you could see the ground below, and it didn’t seem _too_ far a drop.

 

It was better than nothing, you decided.

 

Pushing the window open as far as it would go, you began climbing through, pausing once you were dangling with a tight grip on the sill. After a moment’s hesitation, you let go.

 

Your stomach lurched as the air whipped around you, and you barely had time to suck in a breath before you hit the ground.

 

The impact knocked you off your feet and you swore you heard your ankle crunch as it took the brunt of the impact before buckling.

 

White consumed your vision as you stared up at the... sky? Ceiling? You weren’t sure if you were even outside, yet.

 

Sitting up slowly, you turned to assess your surroundings more properly.

 

The drop from the window you had definitely underestimated. It was far too high to reach again so you couldn’t turn back now.

 

Your prison was nowhere to be seen from this angle, besides the window. It was as though the entire building vanished like an unfinished section of a game. You weren’t supposed to be here.

 

You wouldn’t let that deter you, however, and picked yourself up off the ground.

 

Your ankle reminded you of the fall as pain shot through your leg with a vengeance, and you quickly dropped to a knee in surprise at the pain. Assessing your injuries, it didn’t seem too bad. Swollen, but not broken. A sprain.

 

Gritting your teeth, you stood up again.

 

The pain wasn’t as insistent, this time, so you began slowly making your way into the unknown.

 

It was a long trek, and your hobbling pace served only to slow you down. The dull throb of your ankle gradually worsened the further you walked, and you considered stopping when you felt it. A cool breeze swept past you, tickling your face.

 

The exit!

 

You hobbled a little quicker towards the source, seeing the endless white beginning to dissipate like a fog. Before you the forest began to come into view. The ground was clear of snow, and part of you was reasonably suspicious at that, considering it was the middle of winter last you were outside.

 

Slowing your pace, you paused to scan your surroundings. The ground was damp, and the air was too warm. You assumed you were gone for only a week. Had it really been longer? It was never this warm in the winter; not with the icy hell you put up with for years since you’d moved in.

 

 You wandered blindly through the trees, watching for any sign of your home. It was a hopeful thought, you knew, since it was likely Tarn wouldn’t make your quest to go home easy. For all you knew, you were halfway across the world. It _would_ explain the suspiciously warm temperature.

 

Continuing forward, you reached a clearing. A familiar clearing. The one you used to walk to when you wanted to sing in solitude. Or rather, under the façade of solitude.

 

Tarn was likely watching you all those months, maybe even longer for all you knew. You didn’t want to ask earlier, and now you wouldn’t have to. You were going to go home for supplies then hightail it out of there.

 

You walked the familiar path back to your home, frowning at the lack of “police line do not cross” tape. Had nobody noticed your disappearance? Probably not. That seemed like a pretty typical horror movie trope; since by now you were certain you were the star of some variation of the stalker horror genre.

 

Sparing a quick glance behind you to make sure nobody was following, you quickly limped to your front door, finding it still unlocked.

 

The lights in your house were all off, as you had left them. You wondered how many bills had accumulated in your absence. Hopefully not too many. You didn’t think “kidnapped by a demon” would be a pardonable excuse for missing a payment.

 

Making your way quickly upstairs, you changed into some comfortable clothes, slipping on some shoes as well. You then began packing, stuffing some basic commodities you’d need for going “on the run.” Funny, you always imagined being a hardened criminal in situations like this. Running from “The Law” rather than a demon.

 

Before leaving you grabbed your bat. Maybe you should rename it; considering you would no longer be protecting your property but instead your—apparently irresistibly—sweet, sweet ass from a thirsty bird demon. Something like “The Tarninator.” …No, naming it after him even posed as a clever movie reference would probably just encourage him. You’d come back to it later.

 

You sighed, taking one last glance around your house before you left. You didn’t even know how long you’d have to be on the run for. Hopefully not your entire life. You hoped he’d get tired of you when you at least started getting wrinkles and leave you alone with “eugh nevermind” as his parting words rather than something of deluded endearment.

 

The air was refreshing when you stepped back outside, bat in hand and backpack secured against your back. Inside the house it was fairly hot and the air was heavy from the gathering dust and lack of ventilation.

 

You took the time to stretch in the warm sun, readying yourself for the long walk ahead of you to your car. You kept it out by the road, so it wasn’t particularly close to the house, but it was a pretty long walk for someone trying to evade a very persistent demon. Speaking of…

 

It was unusually silent out, enough so that you immediately noticed the sound of slow, approaching footsteps.

 

Emboldened by your escape attempt getting you this far, you spun around, using the momentum to swing the bat directly at Tarn’s face as he attempted to creep up on you. It missed his face by inches as he abruptly stopped, but you got your message across.

 

You stared each other down in heated silence.

 

“Did you just…?” He began, trailing off in questioning, his tone indignant.  

 

“Yes I did,” You replied airily, “Initially I considered breaking your kneecaps but maybe bonking you over the head will smack some damn _sense_ into you.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Do you really? Because I don’t think—” You were cut off as the bat was snatched out of your hands.

 

In the next moment, Tarn broke it calmly over his knee and discarded the pieces. It was a stupid move, you thought, since you now could use _two_ weapons against him to not only whack him, but _stab_ him since the ends were sharp, if only you could just get to it without him probably tackling you.

 

“ _Gasp_ ,” You deadpanned, turning to glare at him, “How _dare_ you.”

 

Tarn returned the glare. His was more effective, as it sent a pang of genuine dread through you. You realized now that you had effectively pissed him off. Up until this point you’d been trying to _avoid_ that, but there was no going back now. Might as well dig your grave deeper while you were at it. You wondered, was it the escape attempt that pissed him off? Or maybe you casually threatening him? A bit of both, perhaps.

 

Hunkering down into what you assumed was your best possible battle position, you brought your fists up instead. Throat punching was your best bet to at least distract him long enough to grab the sharp halves of your bat to wield against him.

 

Tarn’s red eyes blinked at you in bewilderment at your battle stance.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked, confused.

 

“I’m going to fight you.” You told him, shimmying a little to emphasize the point.

 

“You’re going to hurt yourself is what you’re going to do,” Tarn clipped.

 

“Nah,” You took a jab at him, or more particularly, his throat.

 

Tarn caught your hand quickly and yanked you to him, the force of it causing your shoulder to pop loudly. Not in injury, but moreso a result of the suddenness. You sucked in a breath at the short stab of pain it brought.

 

“See? I told you,” Tarn chastised, holding you still when you took another swing at him, “This is why you _need_ me to protect you, and I can see I’m going to have to take extra… measures to be sure you don’t run away again.”

 

“No!” You thrashed and kicked at him, “If you would just let me leave then this wouldn’t even be a problem!”

 

“Shush,” He cooed, petting your hair.

 

Tarn waited until you stopped thrashing and hissing at him like a rabid animal before continuing.

 

“I am going to have to punish you though, darling,” He told you in a voice that was sugar and poison.

 

“I am _not_ a dog nor am I your kid so you can’t punish me for shit!” You spat back, delivering a hard stomp to his foot to get him to release you.

 

“You’re right about the first bit, but I still can and will have to punish you, (Name). I won’t relish in doing it, dear, but it has to be done,” He spun you so your back was against his chest in order to press his mouth to your ear, “Maybe I’ll do something to amend your keenness to run from me.”

 

You stiffened in both apprehension and discomfort at his disregard for your personal space.

 

“What do you mean by that?” You ventured carefully.

 

“You’ll see,” He sang, picking you up and turning to head back into the forest.

 

You seethed silently in his arms but stopped thrashing, at least. You were _so close_ , so close to leaving this deluded demon in your dust. Tarn began speaking again but you didn’t pay any attention to him, he was probably gloating.

 

At the very least you knew that there was, in fact, an escape to your prison. One that you could reach without Tarn’s aid. Even if he did remove the window or nail it shut you could always find a way to claw through some part of your cage. You had to try.


	5. Tarn/Reader (Faeformers AU) 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter of a chapter this time because I've started up on a personal project of mine again and spent most of my time working on that, so this isn't the best chapter update for the extended amount of time it took me to write this. Oh well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> This is not really revised so be warned. Also less jokes in this since I couldn't find a good way to squeeze them in and annoy you all with my bad sense of humor. Next time, though... 
> 
> Aand please feel free to feed me requests because I do not possess Unquenchable Thirst™ and I'm going to fizzle out and run out of ideas once I finish the Soundwave prompt so uh
> 
> Anywho, please leave a review even if it's roasting me because I live off attention ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

This time when you entered this unsettling realm, you were wide awake and watched as your surroundings slowly fell away to the white nothingness once more. It was like watching paper burn but instead of burning to a black crisp the trees withered away and were swallowed by the white. It was interesting to watch, and you stared, awestruck. That is, until Tarn opened his mouth and ruined the moment.

 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” He commented with a voice that bled pride.

 

“I’m not, actually,” You clipped back at him witheringly, “And I can walk myself.”

 

“(Name), your ankle is sprained,” Tarn reminds you, his tone not unlike a parent scolding their child, “I can just carry you.”

 

“Don’t patronize me.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Are too.”

 

He sighs, but does nothing further to argue. You try to squirm out of his arms and he just clutches you tighter against him in response.

 

You blink and the white emptiness is gone, replaced with the slate blue walls of your room. Unsurprisingly, the window is missing. In its place is the smooth wall, though the curtain is still hanging over where the window once was. It’s pushed aside to reveal the change. You take it Tarn wanted you to see that avenue of escape was gone.

 

Tarn brings you to the bed and sets you down, kneeling on the floor beside the bed. He grabs your injured leg, fixing your swollen ankle with an intense look.

 

“Why did you run from me?” He asks you as he places a hand against the injury.

 

You flinch when he turns those blazing eyes to look up at you.

 

“Well, where I come from, kidnapping is not only just frowned upon, but also _illegal_ ,” You reply in as even of a tone you can manage.

 

It was difficult to keep yourself neutral around him to avoid setting him off. Only once did he ever actually get aggravated enough to probably hurt you, but he ended up thankfully storming off. When he returned he reeked of blood much more overwhelmingly than usual, and he insisted on smothering you with affection(though that wasn’t new) when you made your discomfort known by panicking like any other rational person would.

 

Without the window to light the room, it was nearly pitch black, lit only by the light from the hallway and the eerie light that poured from Tarn’s eyes. He was giving you a thoughtful look, his eyes surprisingly clear of that familiar delusion you often saw when he smiled at you. It didn’t last.

 

“I’ve fixed up the washroom entirely now, so the tub has warm water,” The clarity was gone, his eyes crinkling with a smile as he stood up, “No more cold showers.”

 

“Thanks,” You mumbled in response to the expectant look he fixed you with. Tarn positively beamed at that and reached out to pet your hair.

 

He shuffled to sit next to you and place you into his lap, where he began combing his clawed fingers through your hair.

 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was when I came back into your room to find you missing?” He asked lightly as he clutched you close. You decided against responding, not fooled by his light tone. Tarn didn’t seem to be waiting for one.

 

“I was _so_ scared I’d lost you. Scared that someone had taken you and hurt you. When I realized that you had… _left_ me…” Tarn paused to press you further against his feathery cloak

 

You let him do it, sensing the tension growing in his shoulders. He fell silent for a long pause and stared at you with a soft look of endearment.

 

“Anyway!” He perked up suddenly, tilting his head to peer down at you, “I’m going to make absolutely sure that never happens again, don’t worry. Speaking of, I have a gift for you.”

 

Tarn grabbed your wrists in a gentle grip, pulling them to his chest where he held them in one hand while the other hand fished around for something. You couldn’t see what he was doing from the way you were made to lean up against him.

 

He pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head as you flinched away and wrapped something cold around your wrist. Yanking it from his grasp you pushed it into the fleeting light to get a glimpse at what it was while he did the same to your other wrist.

 

It was a heavy silver bracelet with intricate spirals and delicate designs carved into the face of it. Some of it looked like writing in a dialect you couldn’t understand. When you tried to move the bracelet to inspect it further it clung to your wrist, like it was fixed to your skin.

 

Clawed fingers wrapped gingerly around your wrist again and Tarn pulled your arm to rest against his chest.

 

“Why don’t you love me?” He asked the question often, and you usually tried to avoid answering or you offered him a weak excuse as an answer.  

 

Tarn traced a digit across the cool metal around your wrists; around what you suspected were cleverly disguised shackles that you couldn’t remove. You weren’t fooled by the beautiful designs.

 

You felt a claw prod your cheek, prompting you for a response. You figured you could make an excuse about the room you were in, maybe tell him it wasn’t meeting your needs. Of course, he would likely weed out the lie just as quickly as it would take you to speak it. Better a half-truth than a lie, you supposed.

 

“I hardly know you,” _You’re deluded. You’re a monster._ You think better of saying anything more.

 

You could tell your words hurt for him to hear, but he nodded and made a noise of understanding.

 

“But we can fix that, dear. You should’ve just come to me about this.” Somehow you doubted that. In your past attempts he’d always answered your questions vaguely or tried to distract you from them with small gifts or displays of affection. He was only willing now in order to placate you, “What do you want to know? Ask me anything.”

 

“Where am I?” You ask immediately, wanting to take full advantage of his willingness to answer for once.

 

“You’re home.” _Of course_. You should’ve known better than to expect proper answers to your questions. You debated pressing for a better answer but decided against it. Tarn might change his mind if you decided to argue.

 

You decided to try asking a more specific question, one that wouldn’t hurt him to answer entirely, “Why did everything look weird beyond this room?”

 

He squinted, “Look…weird…? Oh! That’s because you’re meant to stay in here. Everything beyond this is… unfinished. No point in putting the details into the exterior when you’re never going to see it again. Everything you need is in here.”

 

He punctuated his point by patting your head affectionately.

 

“What are these for?” You asked next, bringing the bracelets around your arms up in front of his face.

 

“It’s a gift,” He croons, grasping your wrists to run his thumbs over the silver bands. You sincerely doubt that’s the full extent of it, but once again decide to drop it. Maybe you didn’t want to know.

 

“How long have I been here?”

 

“Three months,” Tarn answered smoothly without missing a beat.

 

You fixed him with a blank stare and he continued to smile pleasantly at you. Three months? You were almost sure that you’d been trapped here for only a week. Although it often felt like much longer, especially when Tarn would drop by your room and settle down uncomfortably close to you. Still, you found it hard to believe. How much of your life had you missed in that time? Did anybody ever come looking for you?

 

Tarn made a soft soothing sound and patted your head.

 

“I can see talking about this upsets you. We won’t talk about it anymore,” He assured you, “Let’s stop with the questions for now, hmm?”

 

You bristled in irritation at his keenness to change the subject. You hadn’t even asked him something that would set him off; you were being careful _not_ to, in fact! Sure, you were working up to it and he probably knew that as well but he could at least humor you.

 

Tarn shushed you when you made a half-hearted sweep with your fist at his face in irritation, but you made no further attempt to attack him, choosing instead to seethe silently while he cooed at you.

 

The two of you fell silent and the music box kicked up again, playing the tune you often heard Tarn humming. It must be a favorite song of his, you surmised. Not that you really _cared_ —you were more focused on your next escape—but you still wondered what the song said about him. It was probably something they play at funerals in whatever hellish pit he crawled from. He seemed like the type.

 

You took the rare silence to gather your thoughts.

 

If you no longer had the window as an avenue of escape, then your chances of leaving significantly slimmed. The walls here might be made of concrete, for all you knew, and if you broke your hand trying to punch your way out of here too many times Tarn might chain you to the bed. You really didn’t want that.

 

Not to mention, literally _everything_ you did made him clingier. If you ignored him, he would start making grabs for your hands or simply lay on top of you. Reciprocating his affection would do the same, as would fighting or avoiding him. He simply took any negative reaction as a sign that he wasn’t paying you enough attention, and any positive reaction as affirmation to smother you further.

 

However, you suspected that he left you alone whenever you fell asleep. Once or twice you woke up to a dark room alone, but sleep dragged you back under before you could really celebrate. You figured you could use that time to search for an exit again, maybe wander the halls to see if there really is no end. You could mark the wall as you went, to see if the halls truly looped back to your room.

 

You’d have to take time out of your sleep schedule, which didn’t bother you so much, but Tarn would definitely notice if you started getting dark circles from the lack of sleep. And if he noticed, well… he wasn’t beyond drugging your food if it would get you to sleep, which would throw your plan out the window. You would try every other night, to begin with.

 

Starting tonight, you decided. Tonight, you would start looking for an escape again. Better to take every chance you got than to miss escape entirely… Tonight.


	6. Drift/Reader (Angel AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF I didn't even skim this for revision. This is just going to be posted as it was when I decided it was finished. I also completely blazed through this because I figured it was time to update this story with something that wasn't Tarn related. Seriously, this is supposed to be a mix of things but it's 80% Tarn(not including this chapter). 
> 
> This is a little bit shorter than what I usually write. Just a bit over 1500 words, in fact. I’m going to write shorter parts for requests unless otherwise asked just so I am able to update more frequently. Trying to write well over 2000 words for every request/part takes a while whereas writing 1000-1500 is something I can very easily do in one day. This is going to be just the one part—and surprise!—it isn’t yandere, for once. I can tack on a continuation to this where it’s yandere(or just a normal continuation) if anyone wants, but otherwise this’ll just remain a one-shot. 
> 
> Requested anonymously on Tumblr.

You imagined dying would be something much louder and crueler. Not this silent, creeping cold swallowing you slowly.

 

It wasn’t that bad, really. It wasn’t. You were just… dying. Alone. But hey, you could see the night sky, so that had to count for something, right?

 

You’re lying on your back in the dry grass. It makes your skin itch in irritation but your camp is too far away for you to crawl to it. You doubted at this point you could stand without passing out. It wouldn’t do any good, anyways. There was nothing in your camp for gunshot wounds, and your phone wouldn’t get any service out here. Just your luck.

 

The gaping hole in your stomach burned with a vengeance. You press your hand to the wound and blood spills between your fingers. Your shirt clings to your skin, soaked in blood.

 

It was a hunter that shot you, you think. You didn’t see them, but you heard their panicked shouts and saw the flash of their orange hunting vest as they turned and ran. They didn’t sound like a malicious murderer, at least. So maybe it was an accident. It’s not like you were the type of person to end up on a hit list; you didn’t have an overwhelming amount of enemies.

 

Accident or not, shooting you in the gut was bad enough, but leaving you here for dead? What a prick. If you had the energy to, you would curse them out. Or curse their bloodline out of spite, if you were a witch and also knew how to.

 

 You don’t remember losing consciousness. One moment you were staring at the pinpricks of light in the night sky, and in the next you were suddenly waking up floating on dark water.

 

Were you dead? It seemed that way. That was the only explanation you could find for the dark grey water stretching on in all directions. There was no sky. Only a grey, endless blanket cast over everything.

 

You sat up and found that the water was shallow, only coming up to your waist. Your feet brushed against the ground. You couldn’t see through the opaque, nearly black liquid, but the floor felt like polished stone.

 

Your clothes were the same as the ones you died in. Assuming you _were_ dead, of course. You had kind of hoped you’d get neat robes or something when you died rather than having to wade in dark water wearing your bloody, ruined shirt. At least the pain was gone.

 

So far, though, the afterlife sucks. You take offense to it, in fact. What had you done in your life to end up here in this desolate land of grey water? In a past life did you spit in some deity’s mouth?

 

You sincerely hoped the water was clean, at least. Hopefully the dark color of it is paint or something.

 

You note that everything around you is still, the water disturbed only by your movement. That meant you weren’t somewhere with a tide. It’s becoming more and more likely that you did, in fact, land in a shitty afterlife. Fuck.

 

It was silent as you started forward, wading further through the water. You couldn’t even hear the water sloshing around you as you pressed forward. It felt like water, and it clung to your skin and clothes in the same unpleasant way, so you didn’t think that the total silence was because you were wading in not-water.

 

Maybe you were deaf. That could be a side-effect of dying.

 

The thought was cast aside almost as soon as it arose. Someone was calling your name from somewhere behind you. So, the water _is_ just not-water, then. Neat. You don’t want to know what it is. Probably the blood of baby demons if you had to guess. That would match the grim theme of this place.

 

“(Name)!” The voice called again.

 

You turned to face whoever was calling you, seeing nothing but white behind you. Your favorite: ominous white light. What was it everyone said in situations like this? Go blindly towards the light? You doubted that was it, but it was either that or wandering further into the unidentified grey liquid.

 

Not to mention, the weird white light was calling you! It knew your name! That was already a step up from the ominous land surrounding you.

 

Taking your chances, you stepped forward into the light.

 

Turns out, stepping into the light was, in fact, a _terrible_ idea. You were immediately met with pain in your gut again where the gunshot wound was. You would have doubled over from the suddenness of it, if you weren’t already on the ground, being cradled in the lap of a stranger.

 

Your eyes shot open—when had you closed them? —and the first thing you noticed was the face of a man hovering over you. The face of a man you’d never seen before. A stranger who—and you didn’t know if this was a blessing or a curse—was painfully attractive. And you were bleeding out in his arms.

 

The second thing you noticed was the set of equally gorgeous white wings trailing behind the stranger. If it weren’t for the pain and the realization you were still in the same spot you’d lain dying in earlier, you would have _really_ thought you were dead. You realize you had been doing that a lot recently: assuming you were dead when you probably weren’t. A side-effect of being shot in the stomach, perhaps.

 

“Uh.” _Wow_ , what a charmer you are.

 

“Are you alright?” The man asked you, undisturbed by your wide-eyed stare.

 

“No,” You answer honestly, because you were still bleeding profusely all over his nice shirt.

 

The stranger looked embarrassed, “Right, sorry.”

 

You felt a warm hand press firmly against your wound and you wheezed from the sharp stab of pain it brought. On the plus side though, this gorgeous angel was touching you… albeit over a gnarly wound that’s gushing blood all over him.

 

Thankfully, the pain began to quickly vanish. But before you could crane your neck to see what the stranger was doing to get rid of the pain, he removed his hand from your stomach, revealing bloody, but unmarred, skin.

 

“Holy fuck.”

 

The angel holding you laughed at that and you flushed in embarrassment.

 

“I mean, um,” You rushed to correct yourself, “Hi, I’m (Name).”

 

Thankfully, he didn’t laugh at you again, though his blue eyes shone with mirth.

 

“Hello, (Name). I’m Drift,” He introduced amiably.

 

“Well Drift, I… need to pack up my camp, I think. And maybe call the cops,” Then, realizing the insanity of your situation, changed your mind, “Maybe not call the cops but I don’t think I want to be out here anymore.”

 

Drift made a noise of understanding and let go of you, allowing you to shuffle awkwardly out of his lap. You made to stand, the blood loss making you only slightly dizzy. You knew that you’d lost more blood than that, but you didn’t really want to question it. It’s not like you minded. Better you didn’t fall face-first into the angel that had saved you.

 

You had really wanted to report the incident to the cops so the asshole that shot you and then left you for dead would get reprimanded, but if you called the police telling them you’d been shot they wouldn’t believe you. Drift had healed the wound perfectly; there’s not even a scar. The only testimony to what happened is the blood that’s covering the both of you. That would look bad as well, because from an outside view someone might think you undoubtedly murdered someone.  

 

Drift followed you to your camp to make sure you were alright, stopping to watch you begin to pack your camping gear. He lingered for a few minutes in silence as he watched you like a personal nurse might watch their patient, but since you hadn’t keeled over yet he seemed content to leave you be. He was already turning to leave when you stopped him.

 

“Wait!” You had dropped your campfire kit directly on your toes reaching out to grab his arm, but you soldiered through the pain when those pale blue eyes turned to look at you, “Uh. I feel like I should repay you for saving my life.”

 

“No, you don’t have to, really—” He immediately began to insist but you cut him off.

 

“Let me rephrase that: I _want_ to repay you for saving my life. Will I be able to see you again?” You internally cheered when your body didn’t betray you and begin to violently shake.

 

There was a pause as Drift regarded you with an unreadable expression. You began to internally panic at your forwardness. What even was that? You just bled all over this guy and now you were asking to see him again what the hell is wrong with you—

 

“Yes,” Drift interrupted your train of thought, flashing you a kind smile.

 

“How can I contact you, though?” You ask innocently, as though that didn’t sound at all like you were asking for his number.

 

“Just… call my name whenever you need me.”

 

Drift paused before turning to leave again, probably to allow you to get any last words in.

 

“Bye, Drift.” You called after him, picking the campfire kit up off your feet.

 

“Be seeing you, (Name).” He called back over his shoulder before taking off, wings catching in the light of dawn.


	7. Soundwave/Reader (Human Cassette AU) 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knock knock, get the door. It’s me again, back at it with some thirst for robot bois. I know most of y’all are here for Tarn thirst but you’re getting this anyway. And this chapter is actually revised?? Surprise, I’m actually putting effort into my writing(unlike the last chapter oof). 
> 
> Feel free to check out my Tumblr at “hyperionova.” Most of it will be posting the links to this story whenever I update it and my fumbling attempts at drawing. It’s a pretty dead blog, gonna be honest, but uh? It would be appreciated.

When you woke up you immediately knew there was something wrong. Maybe it was the black walls surrounding you or the encompassing throb of a heartbeat. The heartbeat of something very large.

 

It's cramped where you are, enough so to make you feel the creeping beginnings of distress from the confined space. There were a few odd lines along the walls that pulsed with light in time to the throbbing noises, reminiscent of veins and arteries.

 

You sat up as much as the space would allow and looked around. Bracing a hand against the cool metal wall you're propped up against you squint to see in the scarce light.  


Where were you, exactly? The last thing you remembered was staring at the black visor of that giant robot—Soundwave—before a sudden pain knocked you out. You remembered feeling your muscles seizing and hearing the electrical hum just moments before falling unconscious. Did he taze you? Why?  


Now that your eyes were adjusting to the darkness, you noted that the metal space encompassing you was the same rich color of Soundwave’s metal frame. _Holy shit he ate you_ —

 

Wait, no, no that wasn’t right. You aren’t sure he even has a mouth to eat you with, and you doubted you’d still be alive if that were the case anyway. It sounded like you were very near to his heart. Or rather, whatever the giant robot equivalent of one was. For all you knew it was a sound playing to imitate a heartbeat. Were you in his chest?  


You couldn’t stand in this odd compartment you're stuffed in, and the most you could afford to do was kneel or sit.

 

It's hot as well, despite being surrounded by cool metal. When you reached out to touch one of the pulsing fuel lines, you felt the heat radiating off it and thought better of it. Everything about this though was so… surreal. The metal under you hummed beneath your touch like something living. It probably was, in fact. You knew by now that Soundwave was unlike anything you’d seen from man-made technology. He wasn’t cold, lifeless, and stiff in his movements—unlike those rudimentary robots in the demonstrations you’d seen online.  


If you weren’t sure you were awake right now, you might think it was a dream. But it wasn’t. You knew that, and you weren’t exactly eager to find out why you were here or what Soundwave had taken you for. Looking for an escape was your best option.

 

You shifted around, looking for some sort of opening or gap you could squeeze through. With how tall Soundwave was, you figured an opening would lead to a very steep drop. You didn’t see a helpful fire escape or ladder scaling down him that you could use to not plummet to your death, either.

 

Still, you continued your search through the small, cramped space. At the very least you’d be able to see where you were beyond the strange metal compartment.  


The metal around you thrummed underneath your fingers as you're forced to crawl around the space. You trailed your hand along the wall, following it until, soon enough, you had made a full circle. There seemed to be no clear exit, at least not one that was open, so you settled down against the wall once more and waited.

 

… And waited.

 

You didn’t have your phone on you, so you couldn’t check the time or call for help from in here. Part of you was curious as to how Soundwave managed to take it out of your pocket with his very large digits. Imagining him trying to take it off your person was both comical and horrifying. What else did he do to you while you were out? You didn’t want to know.

 

You ended up dozing off as you waited. The constant thrum pulsing in your ears and the warmth lulled you to half-sleep very quickly. If it weren’t for the un-cushioned metal and odd position it’d be comfortable enough to knock you out entirely.  


You were halfway to dreaming when a noise pulled you from sleep. The wall to your left fell away and you turned to blearily look and see light pouring in through the new opening. It wasn’t bright, but sitting in the poorly lit compartment for who knows how long still forced you to squint.  


It looked like sunlight. More specifically, the fleeting rays of sun as it dipped beyond the horizon. How long were you out? It was night when you ran into him, so if it was sunset now you must have slept about an entire day. From the stress of the last few days as well as your reluctance to sleep prior, you didn’t doubt it.

 

Something blocked much of the light pouring in just as your eyes adjusted. You squinted again to try and focus on what it was. Realizing it was a metal servo reaching for you, you skittered to the other side of the space and pressed against the opposite wall. It didn’t help. You bought yourself only another half-second doing that, because the reaching servo immediately grabbed you as soon as your back hit the wall.

 

You're pulled like a limp doll from the space and lifted until you're in front of the same black visor you’d seen last night. Soundwave's visor. Or his face. You still didn't know.

 

Soundwave stared at you in silence as he had before. Your nerves spiked from the silence and the way he was looking at you. Even if this giant robot had no observable eyes, you could feel his gaze on you. He was appraising you like one would an antique doll.

 

The drone from before was perched on his arm next to you, chirping in your ear. It’s just as off-putting as before, the robotic trill in your ear and the poor imitation of a bird staring at you with camera lenses for eyes.

 

Meanwhile, Soundwave was buzzing with hardly contained excitement. He was sure that you could feel it as he held you in carefully cupped servos. Surely you would feel the slight tremble in his plating as he looked down at you.

 

You’re so small. Small enough to fit inside his chest compartment. You fit perfectly, in fact. He could feel you moving around earlier, so he knew the space wasn’t too cramped.

 

In his servos you looked so delicate and fragile. He was worried you’d get hurt in his compartment, as it wasn’t made for something as soft and breakable as you. Soundwave would fix that, however. He could get modifications to the space to better accommodate you. After all, it was his responsibility now to watch after you.

 

You shook in his servo and Soundwave played what he hoped was a soothing murmur. The noise was distorted with static as recordings overlapped, creating what was almost a musical tone. It did nothing to calm you. In fact, you looked more anxious.

 

Switching tactics, Soundwave lifted you to his visor and gently nuzzled you. The screen of it was warm like TVs got when they were on for too long.

 

You considered striking him or screaming, but what good would it do? He could just hold you still while he crushed your head like a grape. You doubted he was anything friendly and misunderstood like the Iron Giant, so sitting cupped in his servos you felt extremely unsafe.

 

You still had no idea why he took you. Soundwave wasn’t entirely sure of it, either.

 

Seeing you at first, he knew he should’ve left you. Should have disposed of you, in fact. You’re a human. You were trespassing.

 

But you looked so small and fragile. It stirred something deep in his coding that he vaguely recognized. He had the strongest urge to bring you with him.

 

Soundwave wasn’t sure what had caused it; he didn’t experience this with the other human that ran down into the mine. She was injured from the fall and he disposed of her easily. There was no insistent nagging from his coding with her. You, however…

 

You ran from him, like they had. It was expected, and he knew the direction you were headed in lead to a dead end, so he allowed you to.

The tug from his coding turned into a deep, searing burn the more he resisted it. It was a familiar feeling; he felt it before when he had lost Laserbeak. He knew he had to take you.

 

You had made it so easy, too. Cornering yourself and trying to hide from him in the fissure.

 

Now, holding you in his servos, he found himself wondering just how he was going to care for you.

 

Soundwave brushed a digit against you carefully, curling his servos around you tighter when you jolted and nearly tipped out of his grasp. He’d have to acquaint you, he knew. Properly introduce you to Laserbeak and make sure you knew how to behave. He also needed to ensure you were comfortable around him and trusted him. You constantly flinching away from his touch wouldn’t do.

 

You, meanwhile, took the chance to inspect your surroundings while Soundwave stared at you silently.

 

You’re in a forest somewhere, with high trees. It didn’t look like anything you’d see near your home, considering the area you live doesn’t have a woodland space for miles.

 

It’s also colder here; you can see there’s snow on the ground. Considering it’s springtime where your home is—and you were used to fairly warm springs—you realize you must be _very_ far from home. Or somewhere up in the mountains. It’s hard to tell with all the trees obscuring your vision. Soundwave wasn’t holding you high enough up for you to get a good vantage point, either.

 

You weren’t dressed for the cold, so every small gust of wind that would pass you sent a bitter chill through you. It almost made you miss being inside Soundwave’s chest compartment, but the cramped, dark space wasn’t very comfortable. Not to mention, Soundwave is still your captor, holding you against your will. There’s that.

 

Soundwave seems to notice your discomfort and gives you another affectionate pet before you’re crammed back into the small compartment. It happens too fast for you to do much other than cling desperately to a metal digit as vertigo rushes through you.

 

The exit to the small prison slammed noisily shut as Soundwave’s servo retreated, leaving you alone in the small space again to punch and claw at the unyielding metal in a desperate bid to escape.

 

Soundwave ignored your muffled screams of protest as Laserbeak settled back into place. He could wait you out. He knew you’d grow to accept it with time. You were part of the family, now.


	8. Tarn/Reader (Angel AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Augh may as well get this Tarn bs out of my system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I update this super wonkily and while I realize that I don't want to really take any measures to update more frequently. Also I've got the stomach flu from visiting my grandmother in the hospital but I was somehow compelled to write this garbage anyway illness be damned
> 
>  
> 
> Are you sick of Tarn yet? Because I'm not. While I may not have dug this hole, there's nothing stopping me from grabbing a fuckin shovel bois

He was cast out of the skies eons ago, cursed to the mortal plane and bound there.

 

A monster, his kin had called him as they marred his wings in retribution. Evil. Filthy. Impure.

 

Tarn had heard those same venomous words repeated to him countless times as the centuries passed, spat from the mouths of mortal men. Always it was in an act of defiance, moments before he snuffed out their fire. They thought that they could hurt him with bladed words where their mortal strength had failed.

 

Though their words didn’t hurt him, truly, he still relished in taking out his wrath on the mortals for heaven’s betrayal. The heavens cherished the humans so, and he was a monster anyway.

 

It was easy, too. They were weak against him; foolish and naïve.

 

Many mistook him for what he once was. They looked to him and saw an angel, went willingly with him into the forests and farther from the safety of their civilization.

 

An angel, they thought. The look of surprise on their faces before he cut them down was something he savored.

 

Of course, the few who were bold and defiant would spit in his face and spew insults even as they lay bloody and broken at his feet. They were always the most amusing.

 

When he first saw you, he thought nothing of you. You were merely another mortal, who he would easily cut down if given the chance. You were wise to his tricks, however. Immune to his coaxing as he called you to the woods to follow him.

 

You told him you didn’t believe in angels. Called him a deceiver and turned your back on him as you retreated further into the safety of the village.

 

There was no venom in your tone, however, no malice. You denied him calmly, but the denial was not out of defiance or foolhardiness.

 

It was interesting. You had been the first to deny him in centuries, and possibly the first ever to do so with hardly a reaction.

 

He kept trying.

 

You continued to refuse.

 

It reached a point where you began to ignore him entirely, refusing to dignify him with a response at all.

 

Tarn began to observe you. You were puzzling, and interesting enough to keep him entertained if only long enough for him to break you and eventually tire of you. It helped that you were pleasing to look at—for a mortal, that is. Though, your mortality was something he could easily amend.

 

He was fascinated by you. You were so stoic and unfazed in everything you did, and he wondered what it would take to draw a reaction from you. He thought of ways he could hurt you to draw out a reaction, pointedly ignoring the traitorous stab of regret he felt from even considering it. You were a means to an end; something that he would use to satisfy his curiosity. Nothing more, _truly_.

 

Eventually, though, just observing from the sidelines wasn’t enough. He decided if you wouldn’t come with him willingly he’d have to take you by force.

 

It happened when he was luring another to the woods. You came from seemingly nowhere, grabbing his victim before he could and dragging them to safety. Once they had run, bewildered, back to the cobblestone streets of the village, you reared on him with an expression of thinly veiled fury.

 

It startled him to see the fiery look in your eyes, but he immediately found himself enamored with it. You were the catalyst that tipped him over the edge of a cliff he hadn’t known he’d been walking.

 

You watched him tensely as he stalked toward you, emboldened now that you were not within the safety of the gaslights that lit the small town. Although you knew the light wouldn’t truly be anything to stop him, he’d always kept out of the town before. The only thing keeping you from running now was the knowledge you’d then be turning your back on him, and you knew better than to turn from a predator.

 

Tarn walked until he was close enough to touch you, his eyes blazing with victory and pleasure. The look in his eyes unsettled you but you didn’t back down from his stare, steeling yourself for what was to come next.

 

He reached out to touch you, but you smacked his hand away, spitting a scathing insult. He didn’t hear it over the roaring of blood in his ears, could just barely make out your next words.

 

“—and how _dare_ you even _think_ of harming a child,” You finished, glaring up at him with a scowl on your lips—so unlike the firm line you’d set your mouth in whenever he tried to lure you to him.

 

Tarn stared at your mouth, fascinated, and exhaled in a quick rush of air, grasping your face and forcing your lips to his boldly.

 

Your reaction was swift and cruel, as you bit him hard enough to draw blood and he jolted back in surprise—both at his actions and yours. When he pulled away you spat his own blood back into his face, seething.

 

Ichor dripped from his mouth and he leered at you with a sharp, unpleasant grin. The look he gave you made your stomach churn with repulsion, and you backed away to gain some distance between the two of you.

 

Tarn snatched your forearms in a firm grip before you could back away any further, pulling you back to him despite your protests. His marred, blackened wings fluttered and encased you, trapping you to him.

 

“If you scream, I will slaughter anyone who comes to your aid,” He tells you pleasantly, voice sickeningly-sweet.

 

You heed the warning and keep quiet despite the alarms blaring in your head screaming at you to call for help. However, you refuse to stop your struggles, kicking and clawing at him as he drags you to the forest. He doesn’t respond to your protests, silent most of the walk there until just before you reach the treeline.

 

“You should feel honored. It’s not often I spare mortals,” Tarn tells you conversationally, brushing a thumb over your wrist, “I can make an exception for you.”

 

You were silently resigned as he dragged you into the woods, watching the light slip away through the trees.


	9. Tarn/Reader (Faeformers AU) 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, and writers block can kiss my ass. This is a shorter chapter because I really, REALLY tried to make it longer, but ended up having to cut out a lot of it. I'm not even going to attempt spacing these chapters apart anymore; I don't really get requests or anything, so I'm doing the self indulgent garbage first. (ว ᐛ)ง
> 
> For shitposts, occasional sketches(and even rarer finished drawings), and writing updates my tumblr is 'hyperionova'

When Tarn had first heard your voice, he was searching for someplace to settle down in the shelter of the trees. It would only be a brief reprieve, he knew, before he had to return to his duties of hunting down traitors to the cause.

 

He had just found a fallen tree blanketed in moss to rest on when he heard you. Your voice carried over through the trees, faint but still there. He didn’t recognize the song, but the melancholy dripping into the melody was enough to draw his attention.  

 

Curious, he left his spot to investigate.

 

When he finally reached the trees encircling the clearing, he stopped. There in the center of the small field you sat, your back turned to him, unaware of your audience as you continued to sing in that same solemn timbre.

 

Your hair caught the morning light, casting a fiery halo around your head. With the soft music pouring from your lips and the entire outline of your figure lit brightly by the rising sun, you looked positively angelic.

 

Tarn was enchanted.

 

He watched you from the shadows, rapt, until you finished the song. It was one he was unfamiliar with, but he didn’t mind. You could be babbling nonsense for all he cared. Your voice more than made up for it.

 

There was a quiet pause that hung heavy in the air as the last of your song faded. Tarn found himself missing the sound, but you were already rising to your feet and heading towards a path carved through the woods.

 

He followed you home the first day. Out of curiosity. It was harmless, he told himself. He didn’t do it out of ill intent. He was just _curious_. Nothing more.

 

He watched you make your way to the front door of the small home and was mildly appalled at how small and _plain_ it was.  

 

Tarn found himself wishing he could bring you home with him before catching himself. He shouldn’t. You’re a human. You don’t know him. He’d undoubtedly scare you with his appearance alone. The thought was violently pushed away as soon as it surfaced.

 

Tarn left that day feeling a strange weight growing in his chest, pushing back intruding thoughts of you. He kept reminding himself that you’re merely a human; albeit one who happens to have the voice of a siren.

 

That didn’t stop him from returning to hear you sing. He figured he would allow himself to indulge in the sound of your voice if only to relieve the burning in his lungs when he left you. Only for that reason.

 

For the months that passed since he first heard you, Tarn grew bolder. He began to creep out further from the shadows, began to hum to the tune of some of the songs you sang often. He admired you, he decided. Admired you like one artist might admire another. It was _nothing_ , really.

 

That didn’t stop his thoughts from wandering.

 

Once, he considered the possibility that you would die. Eventually. You are a human, after all. He, naturally, didn’t care. He didn’t. He shouldn’t.

 

Tarn’s thoughts were plagued by the idea of losing you anyway. His chest burned at the thought, like a wave of nausea washing over him. It was distressing. He shouldn’t care. It didn’t matter that you had the voice of an angel or the appearance of one.

 

With time, he could no longer deny that he was hopelessly in love with you. He knew he’d lost from the beginning. Who was he fooling, anyway? Certainly not himself. Nobody else knew what he was doing in his spare time, ~~stalking~~ admiring you from afar... The knowledge that you, too, were unaware of his audience with you both thrilled him and sent a stab of something painful through his heart.

 

Tarn wanted to hate you for what you did to him. He hated, hated, _hated_ it but he _loved_ you and the thought of ever losing you began to hurt unbearably. It was wrong. Was he not a monster anyway, though?

 

He thought of you often. Tarn once entertained the idea that you might someday love him as he loved you. It sparked something unpleasant in him when he couldn’t brush away the image of you rejecting him over and over even in his fantasies. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

 

You did.

 

Even now, when he had you in his arms, you resisted. He could see that you were unhappy here, enough so that you’d sometimes bite back your fear of him and spit scathing remarks.

 

Tarn resolved to leaving you alone when you got like that. Give you a few days to think over your actions, and if sometimes your room’s lighting failed, well, it was an unfortunate oversight. Even if the relief in your eyes when he returned was only for the lights coming back on, it was enough for him to pretend you missed him.

 

Tarn knew he’d have to whittle you down before you’d come around. You may reject him now, but you have the rest of your life to change your decision. He could wait, and if nudging you along would help, he would do that too.

 

Despite your occasional outbursts, he noted that you stopped pushing him away whenever he pulled you into his lap. It was progress, and he was so glad that his patience was finally winning out.

 

He just has to wait, and he has all the time in the world to do so.


	10. A/N

Figured I'd put this out there so:

This story, as well as my blogs on tumblr, is going on haitus. It's kinda been in effect since... a while ago but I figure it's time I put this out there. 

I'm not sure how long it's going to be before I come back(if ever) to this story and start updating again. Depression has been hitting me really hard recently and I figure I'd rather wait until I feel better than push out half hearted updates while I'm miserable. 

I'm considering giving up writing entirely, in fact. Or at least publishing it online. It's not something I've enjoyed doing and I'm extremely self-conscious about what I post, so there's a good chance I'll stop updating entirely and just set the story as "completed." So... sorry to those of you who've been waiting for updates. 

Anywho, hope you all had a fantastic Halloween and I hope you all have a fantastic November too.


	11. A/N: The series stays

Alright, all! I've decided to keep this series up here and continue updating every once in a while. Thank you all for your continued support and patience!

Please know, however, that updates might only happen monthly or so(or longer). I don't really want to conclude this set of works, but I won't have much time to update for a while with my schedule. 

For those of you who wish to keep in contact with me, my blog is still hyperionova. I won't be posting much of anything there anymore, but I have also started a multi-fandom request blog! I've had it for about a week now mostly to see how things go, but it's been good so far. 

The name of my request blog is "glimmeringtwilight", and since it's not transformers exclusive you can request anything else from the fandoms in my FAQ. It's still a yandere blog, so I only post yandere content there. 

You won't see much updates from me here, but you can always drop by my tumblr to leave requests because I'm posting there much more frequently. Also! My writing style has changed a bit(I think, at least), so continuations to this story might read differently, but I'm still going to try and keep things the same here at least. I really like writing the reader as the way I have been, so I'm going to try to keep that up on my AO3(not so much on my tumblr though, unless for special occasions or per request). 


End file.
